Joint Log | Commo Ivanova, Capt Neyes - "Under the Stars" Pt. II/IV

Posted on Tue Jan 6th, 2015 @ 8:27am by Admiral Rochelle Ivanova & Captain Landon Neyes

2,837 words; about a 14 minute read

Mission: A Spot To Kill
Location: Observation Lounge

Rochelle shivered as the cold, sterile air of the suddenly bleak and dreary holodeck swept back to reclaim the territory he'd given up for the sake of playing coy. Watching him from the corner of her eye, she knew he was well aware of his charms – the man's swagger said it all. Yet another reminder that he was so very alive. "Around." She finally replied as he made his return trip and she herself took her first couple steps back towards the doors, "It's been a nightly ritual for a while. Have to say this is the first time I've made a detour down this far, though." Not unlike those fingers that denied themselves purchase against what his shirt quickly stole away. Her thumbs quickly hooked themselves into the front pockets of her jeans, anchoring themselves to an unassuming prison. Balance was key. Balance would lead the way and give her a chance to wipe the slate clean... Or were second chances meant to be taken and run for all they were worth?

The hall lights were less than forgiving; any flush that may have remained would have readily painted itself across her freckled cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Without her uniform, the woman was far less severe and her youth was still allowed to take center stage and proudly boast just how comfortable she was in her surroundings even at night... Even post Mikkal's attack. Rochelle's tongue worried the fullness of her lower lip as she slowly strolled along beside the Trill in that nonchalant fashion.

"I started doing this shortly after I first came aboard." She admitted, looking up at him, "gave me a chance to get to know the ship and then it turned into something more like meditation. I could think and muse and not feel trapped. Walking seemed a much better way to spend sleepless nights than just lying there and staring at the ceiling." A shrug punctuated the sentence. "After I lost you I spent more time up in the observation lounge at night than I care to admit. Replicated pillows and a blanket and would pull up a corner in front of the stars and just stare out at them for hours." They'd had their talks since he'd returned, the night of the masque had been one of little sleep and many questions spent curled up on a couch with pillows and tea to support their idle chatting and ease away the tears and pain that flared up. It hadn't, and wouldn't, cover all the bases that needed to be rounded as Halloween bled to Thanksgiving and now Christmas began to knock on their door. Human holidays that undoubtedly were tolerated, but not quite cherished, by the other species – even if brightly colored gifts seemed to be a universal love of all. Even a Jem'Hadar soldier probably would have squealed in rapture if their white came wrapped in foiled paper with a bow and Santa shaped name tag attached. She hadn't planned on celebrating, but the season had brought her something extra special wrapped up in leather scaled armor and a dragon mask.

"So I am doomed to your midnight march through the corridors. There is a lounge, several if I'm not mistaken. I was assigned something of quarters a little bigger than those your crew locked me into, and I remember where yours are." He had slipped on his shirt, which returned to him the fresh and clean look of a man who took care of himself. She was wearing nothing even remotely Starfleet, which was a welcome change from how she'd forced herself to maintain the facade of professionalism in front of him in public spaces. He knew better though. This could be their first glimpse at a life without the bindings of their positions. While he was uncertain about where it would lead them, he was less uncertain about needing to pursue it than perhaps Rochelle was. Neyes was clinging to the desire to talk her by the hand and walk away, from all of it. To separate the issues of his capture and fall from the world with an impenetrable barrier, locking them away and embracing the here and now. It was simply a matter of convincing the woman he loved.

"Maybe break tradition for once?" He laughed a little, trying not to make it seem as if he was putting down her nightly ritual. For what it was worth, he hoped she knew he was trying to pry her out into a comfortable new space, one where her pained traditions couldn't remind her of the times when she wasn't at her best. Landon wanted to give her a chance to make new memories, and forget the pain of the old ones. He knew only too well that life wasn't forever.

"I know." She nodded and sighed, the idea of idly and endlessly playing watch dog seemed less attractive now that everything that concerned her was walking scant inches from her side. That nod was slow at first, soft and barely there as she reasoned with herself and what he suggested, and then grew as she met assertion. "We can cut to the chase and just go to the observation lounge?" She offered, even questioning her own judgment as the words flew from her mouth. He wasn't crew. He wasn't the Captain and in that precise moment, neither was she. The ship sat idle at Qu'Vat waiting for dawn and clearance to head towards 'home'. She was free for that much longer, and even then she'd be nothing more than an ornament on the bridge unless Rotek demanded that she continue to rest. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. And what he didn't know was that his star little patient, the biggest piece on his proverbial chessboard, was allowing her heart to race a little quicker and her nerves to dance with a taste of the hot brand of adrenaline only desire and romance could conjure.

"Perfect." He smiled, taking a sudden turn down an adjacent hall.

Shaking her head, Rochelle quickly pivoted to follow him in a move that sent her flimsy sandals screaming for help and clinging precariously to her toes and ankles by the thinnest of straps. The passing crew still looked at Landon as if he were a ghost or some kind of holographic supplement created to keep her happy. They cruised past them with a combination of shock and expectation, hidden whispers and crossed fingers that the fairytale woven by the nurses and previous rumors would indeed come to fruition. Each set of eyes, granted they were few and far between, sent the corner of Rochelle's lips quivering into a tentative, bashful smile and made the quiet emptiness of the turbo lift all the more welcome when the doors finally opened for them to disappear into. Even tucked away in relative obscurity, her fingers drummed against the bulkhead as she rested, as usual, against the back rail and called for their destination. With him she'd become the giddy school girl, nervous and trying not to come out of her own skin with the sheer joy that came with finding out the star football player checked yes on your 'do you like me? check yes or no' note passed during a lecture in A.P. World History. The computer chirped and the lift sped off. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" She asked with a small smirk. "The freedom to do as you want when you want."

"There's no way to deny it. This morning I woke up at 0730. It was magic." He stretched his arms up and feigned a yawn. "You?"

"Really? 0730 is sleeping in for you?" Rochelle rolled her eyes and tutted her tongue at him in mock disappointment. Sleep was overrated, but even she could manage to sleep until noon if she really aspired to it and was left alone... Namely after nearly being killed or frost bitten. She'd omit that little tidbit. "I'm jealous." She teased, her fingers halting their drumming as she found a comfortable groove.

"I'm well aware you can sleep until the early afternoon, Captain. In case you thought I wasn't." It was rare, certainly, but she was a young woman. "I was your CO."

"Kept close tabs, did you?" Another small foothold and the comfort level climbed in much the same fashion the lift did. Rochelle left her roost and parked herself in front of him, "Days off are supposed to be days off." She countered and was about to add another cheeky little quip when the lift mercifully came to a halt and chimed his salvation. Seconds later the doors whooshed open and beyond lay the dim, evening lit glow of the observation lounge and the stars beyond the glass. "After you."

He tipped an imaginary hat in her direction. Mouthing 'thank you' and stepping inside.

As always it was empty, even an hour or so before her usual arrival time, and it would remain that way well into morning. Underway or docked, so many people seemed to value their sleep more than the view the lounge afforded. Or was it that they'd already grown tired of the stars? She would never.

"Are we breaking from tradition completely or sampling a little of it for the sake of slowly letting me acclimate to a new groove?" She asked, pausing by the replicator. Had she been alone the order would have been a soft microfiber blanket, a couple throw pillows and maybe a decent book. Tea or cocoa was obligatory and dictated by the time of year. Landon being there broke from all of that and subtly and gently called and appealed to her senses, coaxing her from her militant norm and deeper into his world. Deeper, really, than she'd ever hoped to be. Dreamed of it, absolutely, but dreams and reality rarely allowed themselves to merge – and yet there they stood with him so clearly hers and ripe for the picking if only she'd just reach out and take him.

Landon strolled over to the railing a step above the lower levels of the lounge. "We're just... breaking. Taking a break. Not from anything, or anyone, just... a break..." The dim lighting of the before-hours room mingled with the glow of the stars, and he found himself trailing off as he turned to watch her manipulate the replicator controls. It was a simple, paltry task, but she did it with such ease and grace. The pale illumination clung to her, and dusted her with angelic warmth. Spiraling down her face, that familiar, wild, singular strand of hair fell from its perch behind her ear.

He caught himself muttering something under his breath, his mouth agape. Clearing his throat he scratched at his chest idly. She had been off limits for so long, and now... now there was nothing standing in their way. He felt like a school child again, and the awkward dance of courtship didn't suit him anymore. So many lifetimes of being the mind behind the wheel of hormones and desire, love and fantasy, partnership and family, had all made him something of a loner. There was of course Daeryx and Lexi, but neither was on the same level as Rochelle. Daeryx was a taboo, almost sacrosanct affair Neyes carried with him through his lives. He was the careless, daredevil spirit. Lexi was a transition from Landon's place as a child fighting to become his own person. Before her, Landon was a flyboy in the very essence of his core. Drugs, sex, disobeying orders, stealing were all somewhat commonplace. Between them all, the near-death experiences, and his friend Rob, Neyes was eventually tempered into the person standing before the most amazing human he had ever witnessed.

Leaning on the rail, he just watched her. A stupid smile plastered on his face.

Reaching to tuck that rebellious lock of copper back into place had become so very common place, an action she did without even thinking about it. That one piece had chosen to break the norm and stampede away from the rest of her hair pattern, daring to defy it and grow in a way that left it with its own mind and charisma. In many ways it signified who she was; bucking the norm and defying logic and life to grow as a person to new heights. She was sitting just a few weeks away from her twenty-seventh birthday and had already been minted as a Captain and defined herself as an officer regardless of her diminutive height and age. Now it drew a new parallel. While she clung so hard to tradition out of some undefinable fear of loss, there was that part of her that crow hopped and leaped, begging for freedom and the chance to explore that second chance she'd been given.

She paused in her pursuit of the usual trappings for her starlit evenings, the feeling of his eyes sending pin pricks of excited tingles down along her spine. It had always been like that, Landon didn't have to touch her or say a damned thing, all it took was a look and she'd be reduced to rubble behind the stone exterior of the wild tactician he'd been given as an Executive Officer. The irony of it all was that the brass had seemed to think that Levine's protégé would have grounded him – instead they'd reached new heights simply by trying to avoid and deny the attraction that lay thick between them. Looking up was almost painful in the most delicious of ways, she knew what she'd find standing against that railing; the Trill with his boyish smile and starlit eyes, and she wasn't disappointed. Landon Neyes was a magnificent sight, one that Da Vinci would have painted and sculpted without a second thought. She could still see the lines of worry and stress written in places few would think to look, but they made him all the more real and all the more desirable. More so, they made her lips and the tips of her fingers tingle with the need to erase them.

"Just a break from doing nothing at all?" She grinned in return, grabbing the first two pillows the replicator spat out and threw them his way. "Must be so very hard living on a ship like the Vindicator with no one to spy on." The soft navy colored blanket became the perfect carry sack for the other two and tea, she'd decided, could wait until later. The stars called to her, and she had no choice but to answer with a delicate skip and hop down to the second level of the lounge where the platform wrapped around and pressed against the tempered translucent aluminum windows. It was a well-practiced trip and procession, but tonight was different – tonight she could hear the future following close at hand. The pillows hit the floor where the windows met the bulkhead, the subtle angle creating a perfect alcove for her cocoon of bedding. Folding her legs, she lowered herself to the deck and drew the blanket over her lap.

"Would I be wrong in assuming you've never done this?" She asked and motioned for him to join her as she stuffed a pillow between the bulkhead and her back, "Just curled up, enjoyed the hum of the ship, and watched what was out there?" A flippant hand gestured to the twinkling orbs of burning gas and the occasional sight of a ship drifting past on its way into Utopia.

The Vindicator was such a large beast of a ship, she'd been docked on an outer ring and away from most commercial traffic and those that would stand at station windows to gawk at the spectacle of the damaged ship being repaired. The tradeoff was a nearly unobstructed view of open Terran space, but at that moment she wasn't interested in the star show, her attention was drawn to the pillow toting Captain who had all but kicked open the door of the pragmatic cell she'd stuffed herself inside. It was all a cruel reminder that she had lost him, and a greater part of herself, because of her own ineptitude and lack of ability to cope and simply defy the rules that had been set out in front of them ironclad and daunting. They were meant to be broken, should have been broken, and not in the ways that broke the people towing that line. All of them meant nothing now and instead it was simply pretenses and appearances that lay in the way of excuses – and she was done with them, in love with him, and they were 'breaking' things. While she'd curl up in front of the stars hundreds of times, tonight would serve to be a first in many ways.

To Hell with tradition.

-- continued in part III --

Commodore Rochelle Ivanova
Commanding Officer
USS Vindicator

Captain Landon Neyes
Former CO / Unassigned
USS Vindicator

 

RSS Feed